A/N: For Azuru. I know this challenge is outdated, but whatever. I had to make one of the senile characters psychotic— Ellen was my choice. Not one of my favourites, but this is probably one of the creepiest HM oneshots you will ever read.

Disclaimer: The lyrics belong to Haunted by Evanescence, not me.

Enjoy. Or not.

Haunted

An old photo is placed on the mantelpiece. The fire crackles from beneath. The air around it thickens.

An old phonograph is set beside the photo. Sparks spit at its features.

A black disc is placed onto the lone turntable. As its platform rotates slowly, it evolves into a dizzying spin. A needle is stabbed into it and produces an eerie, daunting screech that wails out of the receiver at a low, dramatic lento.

The music plays. Voices are heard.

"Good morning, grandmother."

A smile.

"Good morning, sweetheart. Going to work so soon?"

A question.

"Yes. Will you be okay at home alone?"

An answer.

"Of course, sweet heart."

A lie.

"Goodbye, grandmother."

A departure.

"Goodbye, sweet heart."

A whisper.

Lyrics form. Music stops. Voices stop.

And an old woman sits there.

Long lost words whisper slowly to me

Still can't find what keeps me here

When all this time I've been so hollow inside

I know you're still there...

The old woman, Ellen, feels her chest tighten. A faint slam reaches her ears as the door shut behind her granddaughter, Elli.

Shallow thoughts creep into her soul. Her spine aches, her back pains. She hurts everywhere.

You're there…

Discreet thoughts reign, unsaid.

She crooks her neck as it falls into a cutthroat position, and a useless laugh bubbles up her chest. What a waste, what a waste of a life… for the last fifteen years, I've been such a waste…

She pities herself. Who wouldn't?

Disabled, the old woman was. And though no one knows of the ulcers she receives in her stomach, or the painful pangs in her heart but herself… she is still such a waste. Such an old, dying waste… a loveless waste. She admits it. She hates herself.

It all happened at the fair.

She had been there with her love, Saibara. Back then they were both young. He was handsome and she was beautiful. Young love… such a foolish adversary.

Take my hand, he said to me.

At that time, the ferris wheel was the sovereign of romantic. The top view, they all said… if a couple were to fall upon the top seat and gaze at the dawning moon, they were to be blessed. Blessed with good fortune, health, luck, love…

The music dims in the background.

LIES.

xoxo

"Oh, look." Ellen gushed as she and Saibara closed in on the amusement park's most popular ride. "It's the ferris wheel." An enticing, sweet voice hinted their partaking.

He grunted. "So?"

"So? What do you mean, so?" A girlish laugh escaped her, all signs of subtleness dropping. "It's supposed to be the most romantic ride out there."

"A ride can only be so romantic."

"Oh, stop being so grumpy, you!" She smiled and took his hand, letting her warmth flood to him. "Let's go on it. It should be fun."

"I don't want to…"

But she started to lead him away, smiling secretively. He didn't know of the saying of the top of the ferris wheel, but she did. "Fortune, health, love, luck…" she whispered greedily to herself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Let's go line up!"

And with a flourish, they arrived at the venue excitedly.

xoxo

Ellen's neck lies limply; what more can an old woman do?

Words run through her head that she cannot say. She pictures a meadow she will never run through. It has been years, decades, she hasn't seen the outdoors, save sunrays slinking through the window. But she cannot see out the window… her rocking chair faces the wall and she cannot turn the chair.

She cannot do anything. She cannot cry.

Like a doll, she is, with blood seeping from her empty wounds…

No one knows of her ailments…

Blind, deaf, disabled… the trinity of a body's gashes. And she's losing her voice too…

She utters the same words each day… Good morning, sweetheart.

Yet no one notices…

Because no one cares.

xoxo

"Look, look, it's our turn!" Ellen squealed. She took Saibara's hand and dragged him into a seat, her eyes shining as she wallowed in her surroundings. Happiness submerged her and she found herself bouncing up and down with giddiness when they sat. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

The worker climbed groggily into a booth to get the ferris wheel into action. "Mind the bars," he said in an automated voice. Synchronically, metal bars clunked into place on each seat, fastening all the awaiting riders' charilifts.

That is, all the chairlifts but Ellen and Saibara's. But she was too excited and impatient to point it out.

"Look, it's starting!" she cried as the ferris wheel cranked into motion. At first it moved slowly and clunked like tin cans, but before they knew it, it pulled into motion. A smooth glide brought the couple into the air.

"Ellen, aren't we supposed to have a safety bar?" Saibara suddenly asked as they rounded a 35-degree angle, sounding sick.

Ellen pretended not to hear him, her brown locks sweeping as she tossed her arms up. "Oh, isn't this so much fun?"

"Ellen, the safety—"

"The view is so nice," she cut in hastily, sighing. "Ooh, isn't this so romantic…?"

"Ell—"

"Oh, look! Look! We're nearing the top!" Ellen couldn't believe her luck. They were actually almost there! Just a few more seconds… almost…!

"Ellen; Ellen!" a frantic cry from Saibara tore through the dreamy atmosphere, and she found herself whirling around and snapping at him.

"What?"

She could barely get her words out as a scream ripped into her ears and sent tremors into the night sky.

"ELLEN, WE'RE FALLING!"

xoxo

The music starts again, dancing upon sixteenth notes. Slow leads to presto, the fastest of the fast.

Ellen sits there.

She cannot hear the music; she cannot sing along.

So she sits there.

Watching me, wanting me

I can feel you pull me down

Fearing you, loving you

I won't let you pull me down

You can only be at the top if other people are below you. Otherwise, nothing will work. It is common sense, the law of physics…

The cause of bloodshed and pity.

Soft laughter rises to her throat, and she chokes it out. Laughter, her body seems to believe, is as foul as curse words. If it is elicited, a punishment waits… if she laughs, it will kill her.

xoxo

What followed the cry was a dismal silence, followed by an automated thrust of the seat. As Ellen and Saibara were dawned exactly into place at the top of the ferris wheel, greed consumed fear.

"Fortune, health, love, luck!" she shrieked into the blackening sky. "It's all ours now, Saibara!"

"Is that all you can think about? All you care about?" Saibara shouted back.

The seat dangled loosely, and they found themselves gripping onto the backrests to keep suspended in the air.

"Don't you want it? Don't you?" Ellen asked excitedly, barely caring she was over fifty feet off the ground. "It's all ours now, Saibara. All of it!"

Saibara's foot slid. "Ellen… we're falling! You tramp, is your greed all you care about?!"

At this, her face loomed dark. "What did you just call me?"

"Tramp."

"Say it again."

"Tramp."

"One more time."

"TRAMP!!!"

And a hard, angry foot stamped into his side, a cackle following quickly afterwards, trilling through the air.

xoxo

"He fell," Ellen croaks into what she thinks is a silence. Slowly, she is killing herself. "And he tried to make me fall too. Fool… fool!"

Slowly, she is dying.

A snake of pain travels into her stomach and lashes outwardly. She coughs up dry blood, feeling its substance crackle against her skin. That is only round one of her penalty.

She laughs again, maniacal now.

"This is what has become of me. All this. I… regret nothing!"

Blood streams from her lips.

xoxo

"Ellen, please, don't…!"

Saibara's grasp of the chairlift began to diminish. His hand grew smaller and smaller, and his fingers lesser and lesser.

"Fortune, health, luck, love! All for me and none for you!" Ellen began to chant, bursting into hysterics as her foot rose and fell once more on his bony fingers.

A crunch was heard; she laughed.

"Luck, love, fortune! Health!" She trod on him repeatedly until only one hand remained.

"Don't," Saibara breathed, his throat in a tight lock.

"Watch me."

She rose her sole for the last time, but the following movement was not predicted. Saibara's arm shot up and clenched against her ankle, trembling.

Ellen's eyes began to protrude. "What are you doing?" she hissed. Her leg thrashed. "LET GO!"

"Let go? Oh, I'll let go…"

"Stop, stop, you wouldn't!" She grew frantic. "Stop, stop!"

He didn't stop. He simply pulled.

And simply, they fell.

xoxo

The music goes up an octave, and consternating words blare. Though the woman stays deaf and oblivious to all, the music pulses through her veins; through the blood that quickly nears their edge.

Hunting you, I can smell you

Alive

Your heart pounding in my head

"I can smell you alive," Ellen whispered, her throat burning as hot as the fireplace before her. "I can smell you die…"

xoxo

They were falling. They felt the air spinning around them, and the gravity of the sky trod upon them. Quickly yet languidly, they spiralled to undesired depths…

And Ellen merely laughed.

Her date was speechless. "Are you mad? Are you mad?" Saibara stared at her, eyes bloodshot and flickering. "What kind of demon are you?"

"We'll die," was Ellen's short response, her cackles muffling her voice. "YOU'LL DIE!"

Saibara wanted to say more, but his head began to pound. He looked down, the endless platform of cement growing wider and harder below him.

"We'll die soon, we'll all die," Ellen sniggered, "but that's okay. Because I got my wish. I got everything I ever wanted…"

"Witch…"

A terrible crunch sounded, followed by the corpse of a scream. Saibara's mouth twisted open, and half a shout exuded before he was brought down on his stomach, smacking to the bare ground sickeningly hard.

Meanwhile, Ellen was caught in a chairlift. Her bones twisted; her body bent. And what it left her was worse than death, but all the things that could make up for it.

She was disabled now…

All for greed and piteous lies.

xoxo

Suddenly, the phonograph stops. The needle has somehow drilled a permanent hole into the whirring black disc, and it slows gradually. Each time, a screech produces. A screech the hag cannot hear. Not only is she too deaf; but too ignorant.

The meadows… I wish I could run through them. I wish, for just one more time…

And somewhere in the back of her mind, she manages to finish the song.

Watching me; wanting me

I can feel you pull me down

Fearing you, loving you

I won't let you pull me down.

She blinks.

She closes her eyes.

Hurt ensues.

The lyrics, the music, the disc… stops.

Her heart beats still.

Her eyes are still closed.

She clutches the armrest tightly.

"Health, luck, love, fortune," she whispers with her last breath.

She coughs. Her chest rattles.

"Lies."

Death consumes her.